I was thinking about Romeo and Juliet. It’s always laughable that Romeo considered himself in such a deep love with Juliet after swiftly and willfully forgetting his love for Rosaline. Really, Romeo? That’s how it is? Flaky bastard.

Lately, I just feel envy for Romeo. I would actually love to be that flaky. In fiction, flakiness is a flaw, but I can only see it being a blessing and a virtue in my life, if only I could harness it.

Also, what about poor Rosaline? All we know is that Romeo didn’t think she loved him back. Perhaps she did, but couldn’t tell him, or never got the chance. Now she has to watch Romeo transfer his “love” to this girl he just met. Wouldn’t that make you feel horrible? Someone was just singing your praises to everything with ears, and suddenly it’s “Rosaline who?”

Maybe that’s just what it feels like to move on. Maybe you stumble across someone that makes you feel like you never knew love before that moment. Maybe all other romances will pale in comparison. I wouldn’t know. I only know that I want to be Romeo. Let me forget who came before and embrace who stands waiting. Allow me to immerse myself in new love as if I’d never been hurt by old love. Sure, the point of the play was to take everything in moderation, but if you are like me and ol’ Romeo, it’s all or nothing. Moderation in any respect is highly improbable. All I can strive for is a shorter memory.